


The War for Kadara

by ej3467273



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 10:39:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10384821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ej3467273/pseuds/ej3467273
Summary: Before the journey to Meridian, Sara Ryder must deal with important matters on Kadara. The war for the planet begins, as the Roekarr, Sloane, and the Charlatan want it. But who will win in the end?





	

If there was one thing Scott Ryder did not expect to do, it was falling from the Tempest at thirty thousand feet with nothing but a parachute to slow his fall. He had participated in a parachute operation once, during a training exercise on Luna before the base’s VI went haywire. As an Alliance marine, he had been nothing but a glorified gatekeeper, watching as others went off to find glory and fame.

Now he was trusted with being in charge of planning operations against the Nexus enemies aboard the Tempest. Operations officer, Cora had told him. So when the Nexus asked how they were going to take a smuggler’s base that had been screwing with them and attacking shipments going from the main hub to Eos, he had no idea. 

The base was covered by turrets, some of them which carried heavy rockets. The Nomad, while equipped with shields, was in no way able to deal with anti-armor. And forgot about using the Tempest. She was an unarmored scout ship meant to evade their enemies, not take them on. He had been pondering this for a week, even when his sister had forced him to join movie night in her quarters with the rest of the crew. 

Oh right. That’s why where I got the idea from. 

Liam was showing a human classic, Saving Private Ryan. The whole ordeal was saving one paratrooper from the Germans due to the death of his brothers. As Jaal was entranced by the uniforms, Vetra was looking back at Sara with her wide turian eyes, and Peebee was secretly taking glee at watching Drack fall asleep on Scott’s shoulder for the sixth movie night in the row, Scott was seized by inspiration. 

Thirty thousand feet with nothing but a piece of silk that was deemed obsolete back in the late 21st century. Thirty thousand feet with nothing but his weapons, hardsuit, and a letter written to his sister just in case he didn’t make it. 

Scott wasn’t alone. Cora was there as well, the former asari commando having leapt right after the Tempest flew over the drop point. Liam was waiting near the bottom of the smuggler’s base with Drack and were their reinforcements. Jaal, Peebee, and Vetra were positioned near the road leading up to the smuggler’s base, acting as a blocking force in case anybody came snooping around.

And of course Sara was falling right out of the sky with him, SAM constantly feeding them information.

“You alright little brother?” she asked as they continued to fall through the sky. He adjusted, letting gravity take him down. He refused to use his jump jets, knowing that whatever equipment the smugglers had, they would be able to detect them, and he did not want that. Last thing he needed were smugglers with itchy trigger fingers shooting them out of the sky.

“I’m great!” he shouted through the radio. 

“Twenty-five thousand feet,” SAM said with his trademark monotone. They continued their freefall, the parachutes still snugly secured on their backs. Cora was at least three hundred feet from them, the biotic looking like a natural, as if she had done this before. 

Parachute assaults were not actually out of style. Scott remembered his father had been a part of the human effort to retake Shanxi from the turians back during the First Contact War. The head of the Marine divisions charged with this task had to overcome turian anti-aircraft vehicles and radar detection. So what better way to avoid it then by using a tried and true human tactic such as a mass parachute assault?

Turned out to be a rather well done operation. His father had jumped out of a Kodiak with the famous David Anderson and they had taken back Shanxi. As one asari historian had wrote,”Humans may not have invented parachute assaults, but by the Goddess they perfected them.”

Even then, parachute assaults and deployments had fallen out of favor. Attrition was hard on airborne units and though the Systems Alliance doctrine was built around rapid mobilization and assault, jump jets and hover skimmers were easier on logistics and personnel. 

“Twenty thousand feet,” SAM remarked and tore Scott from his thoughts. He checked his HUD and found that he was going nearly three hundred kilometers per hour, plummeting to his doom. At least he wasn’t going into a spin, he had heard horror stories from his father on how Anderson had almost died because an anti-aircraft missile almost blew him out of the sky.

“Well, this isn’t bad,” Cora dryly said as she adjusted herself. She was around one hundred feet away from him. Their arms and legs were spread out wide, to ensure they weren’t falling too quickly. Scott looked down, to see the rising of the hills that dotted Kadara. And the outlaws, pirates, and kett assholes who inhabit this wonderful planet. 

“Yeah, because falling out of the sky with nothing but a parachute and good luck isn’t that bad,” Scott sarcastically retorted, even though the entire thing was his idea. Sara gleefully told him that he would be blamed if the operation went south. Thanks little sis. 

They were now at fifteen thousand feet. He wasn’t going to be opening his chute until around ten thousand feet. He just prayed that the outlaws didn’t look up to see three humans with parachutes trying to land on top of their base. 

He could see the base. It was one of the bigger smuggler bases on Kadara, operated by independent pirates who hated both the Initiative and the Outcasts. Scott thought they were doing Sloane Kelly a favor. He was going to view it that way at least. Then again, Sloane probably hoped they would die in order to remove a nuisance. 

“Ten thousand feet. I would recommend pulling your cord soon,” SAM said and Scott agreed. He was stable, falling at almost three hundred kilometers an hour, and needed to stop otherwise he would turn to nothing but a flatten human at the side of a hill. And he did not want to be one of Kadara’s decorations. 

“Why didn’t we allow Drack to do a krogan airdrop?” Sara asked as she approached seven thousand feet. 

“Because a krogan airdrop involves too much ryncol and not enough stealth,” Scott responded. 

Five thousand feet. It was time to deploy his chute. Friction was beginning to slow his arse down as well, but he needed the chute in order to survive this free fall. He could see the smuggler’s base, a collection of steel buildings and prefabricated hubs. It was an old angaran fort, built during the opening shots of the kett-angaran war. 

And the turrets were aimed up. Scott felt a bolt of panic before he realized that they were meant for shooting down shuttles and not three humans on a death wish. It still didn’t comfort him, but the sense of dread was rapidly fleeting. 

He reached up to pull his cord and panicked when it wasn’t there. Then he saw that it was pushed up further and he tugged on it and his chute deployed, slowing him down significantly. He was falling slower, much slower and hoped the smugglers, pirates, and other unsavory figures weren’t looking up at him right now. 

He started to fall gently, almost like gliding on a cloud. Nobody was looking at him. Luckily the pirates were distracted by song, dance, and whatever pirates did in their spare time. 

“Pathfinder, I’m picking up three shuttles. All of them are of angaran origin,” SAM suddenly said, breaking the silence once more. Three shuttles? What the hell are angarans doing in the badlands? 

“Resistance? I thought Evfra didn’t want Kadara,” Sara asked in surprise. But surprise assaults weren’t really the Resistance’s forte. Surprise was one of their fortes, Scott corrected himself, they didn’t really do air assaults. Sounds like the Roekarr. 

The turrets opened up, blasts of energy and kinetics firing at the shuttles. Shades of blue and red lit up the night sky, illuminating the three shuttles in a bath of fire. One shuttle was hit in the left engine and started to smoke, but the others continued forward, undaunted. Goddamn Roekarr. Of course they would be involved in this. 

Ever since Scott’s encounter with the Roekarr on Prodromos, he hated them. They attacked Nexus outposts, tried to turn angarans against them, and were generally a nuisance. Kadara didn’t have a Nexus outpost and Sara had generally avoided the planet after they had recovered the kett transponder. But Scott was itching to get back at the Roekarr. 

A rocket flew right past them, aiming straight for one of the shuttles. It missed, exploding behind it in a spectacular spectacle of orange and red. The shuttles began to land at the base’s entrance, Roekarr raiders and soldiers piling out. Fuck me. 

“Uhh...Pathfinder? This was all part of the plan right?” Liam’s voice came in, a slight panic. “Because I have at least ten Roekarr heading straight for the smuggler’s base and about five or so towards me and Drack.”

Before Sara or Scott could answer, Drack said something over the comms. 

“Come on Kosta, where’s your sense of fun?” Drack asked with a krogan laugh. “It’s time to get busy. Scott, Sara, we’ll see you down here.”

“Sense of fun old man?”

The only response before the comms cut was Drack’s Ruzad shotgun. 

Scott landed at the top of one of the buildings, his knees buckling as he did so. He cut off the cords of the parachute with his combat knife, before sliding it back into his sheath. Cora and Sara landed away from him and he could see the two biotics begin to free themselves from their chutes as well. Scott’s hands went straight for his rifle, his beloved M-96 Mattock. ‘Old Reliable’ as he named her, was perfect. She was...reliable and packed a punch. 

He looked down and saw that the Roekarr were beginning to push into the base itself. A few of their number were dead, but they were alive and well. He aimed at one and squeezed the trigger, allowing for the familiar punch of the Mattock to recoil against his shoulder. The Roekarr raider took a round through his shoulder and fell to the ground, unnoticed by the rest of his comrades. The shuttle that had been hit by fire had arrived, still smoking. It unloaded ten more Roekarr before it began to climb again and headed towards atmosphere. However, one of the turrets turned its attention towards it and opened up, several rounds taking the craft and causing it to crash near the entrance to the base. 

The turrets were still firing, rockets and heavy mass accelerator rounds cutting into the Roekarr forces. But the Roekarr were too numerous for the turrets and soon arcs of electricity were sprouting from the angarans, overloading the turrets and shutting them down. The few smugglers who were outside of the buildings began falling back, firing as they did so. 

He had lost contact with Sara and couldn’t see them anymore. He stayed on top of the building, still putting round after round into the Roekarr who were still busy fighting the smugglers. He killed one and wounded another before slapping a fresh thermal clip into the Mattock.

“Sara!” he called out. “Cora! Where are you guys?” 

“Down near the entrance!” Sara responded. “The Roekarr are beginning to push towards the main building. And I’ve got word from Jaal. Road is quiet. For now.”

Sometimes Scott wished the Initiative had let them put a gun on the Nomad. But no they were explorers not an army. Whoever had come up with that needed to be shot or thrown into the brig. 

“Alright. I’ll meet you by entrance,” he told her before he shot another Roekarr in the face. “Let’s do this!”

He jumped down from the building and activated his combat drone. Back in the Milky Way when he had been on leave at the Citadel, some quarian mechanic had challenged him and his drone to a shooting contest. The quarian had won and he lost five hundred credits. Never again, he had swore himself, to never challenge a quarian again.

He did in a drunken stupor and lost. Again. To the same quarian. Her friend was cute. That friend of hers almost stole his beloved Mattock after they were done, but he knew a tactical cloak when he saw one. 

He left thoughts of the Milky Way behind when an angaran smashed straight into him. It was a Roekarr and he seemed pissed. 

“Milky Way scum!” the angaran spit with venom and raised one of his fists. “You will pay for everything you have done!” 

God I hate the Roekarr, Scott thought has he blocked the strike. He lost his grip on his rifle and it tumbled away and he couldn’t get his hand on his pistol. The Roekarr hammered him in the helmet with a right hook that sent Scott tumbling to the ground. 

He may hate the Roekarr, but god could they hit. He got up, thanking God he had a helmet. The Roekarr started to advance, but Scott kept his distance. The alien charged forward, swinging wildly with his fists but Scott blocked each of them and countered with a couple of jabs and a strong underhook. The angaran looked stunned but continued to fight well, blocking and countering just as well as Scott. But Scott managed to get in a lucky punch, sending the angaran sprawling to the ground.

The alien got up and dusted himself. The Roekarr then brandished a knife and came straight for him. 

The two of them faced off from each other. The angaran seemed like a veteran but so was Scott. They circled each other warily, each of them with the knowledge of their foe’s strength. Then the Roekarr raider went rigid. And fell face first into the dirt.

“Really Scott?” Sara asked in disbelief as she lowered her Piranha. “A fistfight? What is this, Krall’s Song again?”

“You know, I’d really like it if you didn’t bring that up,” Scott said as he dusted himself up. “Besides, Drack and I took care of business.”

“You busted up a bar and pissed off Sloane. Why do you think we’re only coming back to Kadara now?” Sara said with exaggeration. “You’re lucky that Umi actually likes you.”

“What can I say, I’m a likeable guy,” Scott murmured before picking up his rifle and placing it on his armored back. “And yeah I like Umi too. She’s a good friend.”

He heard a sound that was supposed to be a chuckle. 

“Yeah, a ‘good friend,’” Sara mockingly repeated while air quoting the words good friend. “Just like Lexi wants Drack to be her ‘good friend.’”

“I heard that,” Drack rumbled as he entered the base, his Ruzad shotgun in one hand and an unconscious Roekarr raider in the other. “Lexi is a good friend and I want it to stay that way. I’m way too old to be making asari children.”

Sara snorted. “You weren’t the one who had to read a five hundred page report on krogan vitality and reproduction techniques Drack. I did.” 

“Wait why-”

“Let’s keep going, shall we?” Liam interjected, not wanting to hear anymore of this. “Smugglers to kill, Roekarr to worry about.”

“And Drack. Leave the Roekarr raider here,” Sara ordered. “Otherwise I’m putting you on babysitting duty and watching Peebee!” 

Scott chuckled as Drack unceremoniously dumped the angaran on the ground and grunted about babysitting duty. 

Scott drew his Mattock again and lead the group in, with Cora and Sara at his flanks, while Drack and Liam covered the rear. It was their standard formation. Years of training to be a point man had taken over, expertly making sure that every corner was checked, no rock was left unturned. 

The Roekarr were still fighting it out with the smugglers but the weapons fire was beginning to die down. Whoever was winning was going to have a nasty surprise awaiting them. 

Sure enough, the victors appeared, their guns smoking, their armor scarred, and they were drunk on their victory. The smuggler, a human by the looks of it, was being dragged behind them.

“This is the one?” one of the Roekarr asked the one dragging the human. “The one who communicates with the Resistance?”

“The very same one,” the Roekarr leader confirmed. “She will be pleased.”

There were only four of them, which left the Pathfinder team in the unusual position of actually outnumbering their enemies. Scott pointed the Mattock straight at the lead Roekarr, while Drack aimed his Rushad shotgun at the one dragging the human. Sara and Cora took aim at the other two, while Liam was shifting his gun between the four Roekarr survivors, not knowing who to shoot. 

“My arse!” Liam swore. “Every single time…”

“Hold there fiends!” Sara said with her best Pathfinder voice. “You are surrounded!” 

“Hold there fiends?” Scott said in disbelief. “What is this, a bad human buddy cop comedy?” 

The Roekarr weren’t able to understand the dynamic between the brother and sister and quite frankly, neither did the Pathfinder team.

“Just surrender,” Drack suggested. “Otherwise you’re going to hear this for the next ten minutes.” 

The Roekarr, who were not known for surrendering, did exactly that. They dropped their weapons and put their hands up, with Drack and Liam leading them away. Sara kneeled to the ground to see who the human was. 

Scott had known his sister all his life. He knew her quirks and her personality. But he had never seen her move so quickly in her life. She cradled the human with a gentleness that he had never seen before. 

He moved closer to see who it was. Covered in blood, moaning in pain, was the one and only Reyes Vidal.

**Author's Note:**

> A proper war.


End file.
